


A spot in the shade

by Veto_power_over_clocks



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Fantastic Beasts Secret Santa, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-12 13:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9074554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veto_power_over_clocks/pseuds/Veto_power_over_clocks
Summary: The thing about Newt’s mind and his accent is that, since it’s hard for Queenie to make out his thoughts, it’s easy for her to let them become background noise, catching only mood and intention. Right now, what she can gleam from his mind is the same she can get from seeing the way his brow furrows slightly and he presses his lips as he looks from her to her coat on her desk: concern.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparkingtoaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkingtoaster/gifts).



> Hi! I tried to fulfill your request for something about "newt's body language and the way he won't look at anyone". It might not be exactly what you wanted, but I'm hoping you'll enjoy it anyway.
> 
> For any other readers, this was written for the Fantastic Beasts Secret Santa.

For the next three days after Grindelwald’s capture, Queenie and her sister barely see their home. After all the repairs are finished around the city, the two of them, plus Newt, have to spend their time filling reports, giving declarations, and clearing things up. There’s also the matter of Newt’s menagerie, which, while useful, is still highly illegal, and therefore needs to be discussed. Tina explains too many times the events of the last two days, Newt explains too many times how he realized that something might be wrong with Mr. Graves, and Queenie barely does any explaining for anything, because her involvement in the events had been rather small, so they mostly leave her alone. Also, she might have asked Sam to make things a bit easier for her, since it wouldn’t look very good if people knew he’d allowed her to take Jacob from his custody.

Honestly, Queenie hopes that they’ll be done with everything soon, because the panicked, stressed thoughts of everyone in the building are giving her a migraine.

If there is one thing a legilimens doesn’t get enough credit for, it’s managing to get anything out any mind. People’s thoughts aren’t organized like crockery in a kitchen, nor linear like train wagons: they’re tangled, messy, they blend into each other and sometimes get muddied by memories, and following a single thread is a work of patience and focus. Her own mind is no exception and here, in the constant noise of the aftermath of Grindelwald’s attack, she tends to lose her line of thought far too easily, so she spends as much time as possible hiding in the Wand Permits office before going home.

This is how Newt finds her on the third day: leaning back on her chair, her coat over her head and her hands crossed over her stomach as she murmurs to herself poems and prayers taught to her by her father when she’d been little and which she sometimes uses to find herself during hard days.

She hears the steps approaching her desk, and even though lately she’s been having trouble telling one mind apart from another, the accent makes Newt’s instantly distinguishable, so she takes a moment longer emerging from under her coat than she would have for anybody else besides her sister.

“Hello, Queenie,” Newt says, his head bowed, coming to a stop just a step too far from her desk.

“Hello, Newt. I didn’t expect to see you down here.” Queenie smiles at him, soft and welcoming, and waits for him to take that extra step towards her, but he stays where he is. “I thought they’d keep you trapped filling a few more reports.”

She looks away from him so she can fold her coat, and then searches in a drawer for a handheld mirror so she can fix her hair.

“Ah, yes. Apparently they realized that the events wouldn’t change even if we retold them twenty times,” he says, sounding amused. Queenie sneaks a look at him to find him smirking. “So they gave us permission to leave early today. Well, just me, but since we all went through the same experiences and they aren’t eager to leave me alone in the city, Tina and you can leave early as well.”

There are some locks out of place, but all in all, Queenie’s hair survived getting covered with her coat. She looks up to find Newt watching her attentively, like she thinks he might watch a new creature. He looks away from her as soon as her eyes meet his, settles his gaze on her desk.

“So we’re your guardians?” Queenie asks teasingly.

“It would seem so, yes.” He shrugs. His body is angled away from Queenie, yet his head is turned in her direction, his eyes fixed on a spot near Queenie’s head, so she feels like he’s looking towards her even if he isn’t looking at her. “I haven’t had a chance to tell Tina yet,” he continues. “They’re interviewing her about everything related to Mr. Graves in the last few months – I think they’re trying to determine when exactly Grindelwald took his place.”

Queenie makes a face at that. “They should be focusing their efforts on trying to find Mr. Graves and then ask him that directly,” she says, trying not to sound judging, even though that’s exactly what she’s doing. Between what they almost did to Tina and what happened with Jacob, she’s not very happy with MACUSA at the moment.

The corner of Newt’s mouth twitches in what might be a sympathetic half smile and he nods, turning his face to the side, so she can only see his mop of hair instead of his eyes. He shuffles his feet and turns to her again.

The thing about Newt’s mind and his accent is that, since it’s hard for Queenie to make out his thoughts, it’s easy for her to let them become background noise, catching only mood and intention. Right now, what she can gleam from his mind is the same she can get from seeing the way his brow furrows slightly and he presses his lips as he looks from her to her coat on her desk: concern.

“Have you not been sleeping well?” he asks, leaning forward slightly.

“My nights are good. It’s the days that are kind of noisy.” She rubs her forehead. She can hear half a dozen aurors talking about Mr. Graves, an indeterminate amount of people thinking the name ‘Grindelwald’, and everyone in the building in a hurry.

“Is it always like this?” Newt sounds neutral, with just enough warmth to make it clear that he cares about the answer.

“No. Usually it’s dull. I guess capturing a wanted criminal makes every thought louder.” She smiles resignedly at him.

His frown only deepens at that.

“We should be able to leave soon.” Newt turns and looks in the direction he came from. “I’ll go and look for Tina, I don’t think they could have kept her that long, right?”

“You’re underestimating bureaucracy, honey.” She sighs.

He looks in her direction again, looks down at his case, bites his lower lip, and Queenie has to fight her curiosity so as not to try to tell apart his thoughts from all the others and find out what he’s pondering.

She can tell the exact moment in which he makes up his mind, because his shoulders drop and he raises his case.

He looks at her directly, body inclined towards her, and speaks softly, his tone steady as he says, “I’m not sure how connected the case is to the environment - I mean, I know it can’t be affected by what happens outside, I don’t know if thoughts can be heard from inside it. But, if you’d like, you could stay there while we wait for Tina.”

Queenie wonders if this is how he handles his creatures – a non-threatening posture and voice, offering the time to either accept or reject his presence. It probably is, and she decides to tease him about this later, maybe pretend to be slightly offended about him treating her like one of his subjects of study.

She might change her mind about that, though, since he still looks concerned and, anyway, he’s being nice.

“That sounds very good right now,” Queenie says, standing up. Newt immediately stops looking at her, goes back to looking at some point near her face. “Won’t the creatures mind me being there without you?”

“The dangerous ones can’t leave their areas, and the rest are quite friendly.” There’s a pause and he says, looking very serious and slightly worried, “The niffler might try to search you for coins and jewelry, though.”

Queenie’s eyes widen. She’d thought nifflers would avoid people. Her surprise quickly changes to mock indignation, because Newt’s pressing his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh and, “Mr. Scamander, was that a joke?”

“A small one,” he says, smiling, his eyes meeting hers for a moment, and then Queenie’s smiling too. “But I can’t promise he won’t go to you if he thinks you have anything shiny.”

“I’m sure I can deal with him, honey.”

“I have no doubts.”

He accompanies her into the case, tells her where to find anything she might need and leaves her alone. Wonderfully alone. She'd missed having her head to herself. Actually, this might be the first time in her life that she has been alone with her thoughts.

She walks around, finds a place where she feels comfortable, closes her eyes and enjoys the silence.

This is how Newt finds her an hour later: sitting at the area where Frank used to live and holding the niffler, which seems terribly interested in her hair.

She hears a British-accented line of thought approach her and she looks up just in time to see him come to a stop at the entrance. He stands there, watching her with his head slightly tilted to the side and a neutral expression on his face. Here it’s easier to hear him, deciding whether to approach her or not.

Queenie waves to him and smiles brightly, teeth showing. Newt smiles softly, the words ‘She looks better’ passing through his head as he walks towards her.

“Hello, Queenie,” he says when he’s close enough to be heard, but he keeps walking until he’s standing in front of her. He’s looking at the niffler, which keeps trying to reach for Queenie’s hair from his place in her arms.

“Hello, Newt.” She cuts a lock of hair and lets the niffler take it and run off with it. “I will have to cover my hair the next time I come here.”

Newt’s looking at her from the corner of his eye, and there’s a pleased smile on his face.

“I’m sure we can find a better solution,” he says, sounding apologetic.

He’s already thinking of options for that, but he’s also thinking about Tina, who is waiting for them outside the suitcase, and about getting passage on the next ship towards England.

“You're right," Queenie says, standing up. "Let’s not keep Teenie waiting.”

He frowns slightly, uncomfortable with her legilimency again, but doesn’t say anything.

“Thanks for this,” she adds, gesturing at their surroundings. “I needed it.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. There’s nothing special in his voice, but his whole body relaxes, his smile’s slightly wider, and she thinks he might be a bit embarrassed, like being thanked isn’t something that happens to him often.

She decides not to ask, and tries to block Newt’s thoughts. The case is a safe place and Newt is her friend. If he wants to share, he will.

And, besides, she’d like to stay in silence for a moment longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
